


The Rosary

by greekowl87



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s08e13 Per Manum, F/M, RST, UST, foreshadowing], my attempt, rosary, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 02:30:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10584561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greekowl87/pseuds/greekowl87
Summary: Mulder carried a rosary made of amethyst and gold. My attempt at Per Manum. P.S. I really need a beta reader. Sorry for the typos. However, I am very happy how this turned out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt at Per Manum.
> 
> Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own anything merely borrowing.

Mulder fingered the beads of the amethyst rosary in his trench coat. He did not know when he became so religious. Could he count himself as religious? Spiritual maybe. But he believed in Scully. That was all that mattered. Maybe that was why, after she requested his genetic material, he had gone out and purchased a rosary. 

He wasn't Catholic. Never had been. His father had been a Jew, his mother a Methodist. He became an atheist. Then he met Scully. Then he became agnostic, although he would never openly admit that. He believed in her. Her science. Her skepticism. He believed in her faith

Faith was a powerful thing, he had discovered. Whether her faith in science or her Catholic faith, it was her faith that drove him and gave him purpose. When she had approached about the IVF, he hesitated, but he could see no one else but her, with whom he wanted to have a child with. Their child. He prayed, to whatever God existed, for a miracle. Their miracle.

The amethyst beads of the rosary were cool to his fingertips, but calming at the same time. He sighed, thinking of her, how much he loved her. He drove through the streets of Georgetown to her apartment. He had gotten her message an hour ago.

“Mulder...shit. Mulder. I need to see you. Can you come by? Please?” Her voice was full of desperation, then sadness. “Please, Mulder. I need you.”

I need you. She would never openly admit her weakness unless it was serious. He dropped everything and rushed to Georgetown. His thoughts drifted as he held the steering wheel with one hand and fingered the amethyst rosary with his other hand.

A rosary. With amethyst beads. And gold charms. 

It reminded of him of her. Her conviction. Her birthstone, amethyst, which if he remembered from Greek myth, kept the wearer clear headed. She was always level headed. And the gold...the gold reminded him of her gold cross. The same gold cross he wore during the months of her abduction. He only wore her gold cross for a few months, but five years later, he always found himself unconsciously reaching for it, to finger it, the tactile feel of the cool metal soothing his nerves. But now he had is rosary, purchased on the streets of Old Town Alexandria during the farmer's market. He bought it because it reminded him of her and made him feel close to her.

When he arrived at her apartment. He unconsciously wrapped the rosary around his left wrist and shoved his hand and wrist into his coat pocket. Just the tactile feel of the beads made him feel a little more at ease for what he was about to do. He took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, locked it, and found himself standing outside her door. He knocked lightly with his right hand, his left hand, snug in his coat pocket, grasping the rosary tightly.

When he heard no answer after a few minutes, he dug out his keys. Scully's apartment key rested right next to his own house key.

“Right where it belongs,” he mumbled to himself.

At this point he was tired. Mulder did not know where the exhaustion came from. He had every intention of waiting for Scully but he was just so exhausted.

Quietly, not to disturb anything, he lounged haphazardly on her couch. It was not as comfortable as his own leather couch but it had one advantage: it had the Scully smell. He felt like a creep when he thought of it but something about her just instantly calmed him.

The door opened hurriedly and he found himself blinking himself awake. He stood up quickly, recognizing her quick steps. “Scully?” he called sleepily. “I must have dozed off. I was waiting for you to get back.”

He felt his heart stop seeing her face. He had only seen that look one other time when the cancer had spread so far and there was no hope for a cure, when she had resigned herself to death. Oh, Scully, he thought forlornly. He knew what was wrong.

“It didn't take, did it?”

Scully bit her lower lip and nodded. She was tired of being strong. She was just tired. And exhausted.

Her voice trembled. “I guess it was too much to hope for.”

Her shoulders hunched over and he could see the pain across her face. Inwardly, he sighed and felt his heart breaking into a thousand pieces. His hand sought the rosary in his pocket briefly before he opened his arms. She hugged herself and shuffled towards him. Within an instant she came forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. He sunk his face into the crook of her neck and hugged her tightly as well. 

“It was my last chance,” she sobbed.

Mulder could feel her heartbeat against his because they were holding so tightly to one another. She continued to cry and all he knew was to comfort her. He kissed her forehead possessively, trying to pass his hope and love into one single motion. He held her tightly and rested his forehead against hers.

It felt right.

His left and briefly sought the amethyst rosary before he caressed her cheek. He took a deep breath and sighed, sensing her release and tightly held breath at the same time. His free hand sought her flat stomach. 

“Never give up on a miracle.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the tears coming faster. Hungrily, she kissed his neck and then his lips. She lingered then as if something about was more. Mulder felt himself pull her closer, heat rushing to his center. “It's okay,” he whispered.

Scully let out a sob that carried all the emotions and pain she felt. But somehow, the safety of being in his arms, him surrounding her, it was okay to let those walls fall. It was okay to feel something. She clawed around his neck like she had when Padgett's creation almost ripped her heart out. Except her heart was being ripped out from her again. Mulder closed his eyes, feeling hot tears sting his cheeks. His dress shirt was wet too. She was crying as well. All he could do was hold her.

Scully felt his right hand gently rubbing soothing circles into her lower back, his left around hugged tightly around her, his mouth kissing the crook of her neck and then trailing up to her cheek. She felt her breath hitch when he found her lips.

Mulder did not know what came over himself. “Scully,” he breathed, breaking away. He averted his gaze from her “I'm sorry. I...I don't know what came over me.”

“Mulder, shut up.” She took his face into her hands, her thumbs gently tracing his cheekbones. “Look at me, Mulder.”

He felt his hand gently drift to where he kept the rosary in his suit pocket. Scully caught his hand and felt the rosary through his suit jacket. He hung his head, almost embarrassed at the fact she found his little knick knack. She reached into his pocket and he felt himself shudder at the sensation of her touch. Scully felt the familiar beads of a rosary in his pocket as he bent his hide and hid his face in the crook of her neck.

The amethysts beads were still warm as she pulled it out and inspected in the dim light. She fingered the beads, the prayers corresponding to the beads running through her head. She the rosary felt heavy in her fingers, telling her he had spent good money one it. But the beads, she squinted her eyes briefly to confirm it.

“Mulder, are these beads...”

“What about them?”

“These are amethysts.”

“Yes, they are.”

“That's my birthstone.”

“I know.”

She fingered the golden cross.

“Is that real gold?”

He nodded. 

“Why do you have this?”

Mulder bowed his head even more and Scully took the hand that still rested on his face and nudged him to look at her. His hazel eyes were clouded and he felt himself look away at her intense stare. She caressed his cheek. 

“Mulder. Look at me.”

He felt his stomach flip. He couldn't look away. Her blue eyes conveyed so much pain, heartbreak and...love? Love as a friend? Something else?

“It reminded me of you,” he replied bluntly. He lowered his eyes again. “I always remember your birthday, even if I don't celebrate it. February 23rd. Amethyst is your birthstone. The gold reminded me of your cross. It reminded me of you. You want this so badly...we want this.”

“We?”

“I know how badly you want this. All of this...” he spoke passionately as his hand drifted to her midsection. “This is my fault. You don't deserve this. It's because of me...”

“Mulder, stop it.”

“Scully--”

“I make my own decisions. It's my life remember?”

He thought back to Jerse. How independent she had been then. How independent she still was. “But I have a say?” he asked softly.

“You are the main influence,” she said fondly. She played with the beads. “Why a rosary?”

“I'm tactile,” he said dismissively. After a long awkward moment. “It reminded me of you.”

Scully bunched the rosary in her hand and wrapped her arms around his neck. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his shoulder. Mulder sighed contently and rocked them gently. “I only wanted a child with you. I could not imagine being anyone's dad but to our child. Our child, Scully. I love you.”

The words escaped his lips before he could stop himself.

“I love you too, Mulder.”

The words struck him like a lightning bolt He straightened his posture. “For real for reals?” 

“Yes, Mulder. For real for reals.” She sighed contently as she melted into his embrace, the rosary still tightly bunched in her hand. “Stay with me?”

“Whatever you want, Scully.”

She smiled into his shoulder and sought his lips again. Although her heart ached, she felt loved. Her center, her heart, and her mind were singing together a harmony. She pressed her ear again his chest, ignoring his poor choice of tie. She snuggled closer. His heart was in sync with hers. She held the rosary tightly. “Do you want me to show how to pray properly?”

She dangled the rosary between them. He felt himself grow tight. “A personal lesson in Catholicism?”

“Something like that. I'll show you what miracles are and what they can be.”

She grasped the rosary in her left hand and held his hand in her right hand. She pulled him silently to her bedroom. The rosary was still tightly clutched in her hand. Despite everything, she knew she loved him and he loved her. She knew he felt the same way. She pulled the rosary to her chest and sighed contently.

“I'll show you how I do my Hail Mulder.”


End file.
